


This is Tailor-made, What's the Sense in Waiting?

by GilgaNyan (NarryEm)



Series: Volleyball!! Gays [22]
Category: Haikyuu!!, Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Banter, Blow Jobs, Couch Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Foreplay, Frottage, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 21:04:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9516104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NarryEm/pseuds/GilgaNyan
Summary: prompt (of sorts): What about a behind the scenes AU? Oikawa and Viktor would be theatre actors while Iwa works on the props and Yuuri on the costumes?Alternatively, an AU where Oikawa is sick of Yuuri's blindness when it comes to Viktor flirting up a storm with the costum designer.  His only solace is complaining to Iwa-chan, his childhood-friend-turned-boyfriend, and getting him to agree with him halfheartedly.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lychee_tae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lychee_tae/gifts).



> title from "As Lovers Go" by Dashboard Confessional
> 
> Happy birthday, [Ingrid](http:///www.lychee-tae.tumblr.com)! I offered to write her a shortish fic for her birthday and this is what we concocted :D As I said to her, two airheads in one fic is better than one  
> ★~(> ♡ ◕✿)

 

“And that’s a wrap for today!” the director yells.  The actors cheer and clap as they exit the stage.  Yuuri Katsuki, the head costume designer, rushes up to Viktor Nikiforov before the lead actor can have a chance to get off the stage and away from the bright stage lighting.

“As I thought,” Yuuri mutters half to himself.  “Did you lose weight or something?  I’ve told you time and time again to let me know if something drastic happens with your body, Viktor!  And I hate it when you shed a couple pounds.  You know that I tailor your costumes to be quite fitted.”

Viktor smiles apologetically.  “Sorry, sorry, Yuuri~  My schedule has been hectic last week so I might have skipped a few meals here and there inadvertently.”

Yuuri glowers at Viktor, causing the Russian actor to flinch.

“You’re forgiven.  Mostly,” Yuuri grumbles, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“How about we go and grab something to eat together right now?” Viktor suggests.  He hooks his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans.  “My treat, of course.”

Yuuri’s cheeks turn a bright shade of red.  “Y-your fans will have my head if they find out that we went out to eat together for the third time this month.”

Viktor pouts.  “But I can’t help that you are my favourite costumer!”

“F-fine,” Yuuri stutters.  “But don’t you dare think that I’ll play favourites just because you treat me nicely.”

Viktor grins.  “I wouldn’t dare.”

As the two men head out, Tooru Oikawa shakes his head at the pair, sighing.  He uncaps his water bottle to take a swig of the water.

“What’re you sighing about?” 

Oikawa yelps, spilling half the water bottle onto himself.  “Fuckin’ hell.  Don’t sneak up on me, Iwa-chan~”

Iwa-chan laughs.  “You should pay more attention to your surroundings.”

“Iwa-chan is always so mean to me,” Oikawa pretends to sulk.  “That is not how you’re supposed to show love to your childhood friend.”

“I am not under any obligation to play nice with an  _ alleged _ childhood friend,” Iwaizumi scoffs.  He hands Oikawa a towel that was slung over his shoulder.  “Anyway, you haven’t answered my question.”

Oikawa gives Iwa-chan a dramatic look.  In an equally dramatic tone, he utters as he wipes the water off his face using Iwa-chan’s towel, “Viktor and Katsuki.”

“Ah,” Iwaizumi acknowledges.  “Are they up to it again?” 

Oikawa nods, wringing out the water from his t-shirt.  He drapes the towel over his arm and watches as Iwa-chan starts tidying up the stage.  Before Iwaizumi sorts the props and set pieces into containers, he thoroughly inspects them for any possible damage.  Oikawa saunters over and helps Iwaizumi with his work.

“This is the third time that Nikiforov asked Katsuki out for a meal after rehearsals.  And that’s just in the span of three weeks.  Three dinners!  Most people would see the first dinner alone as a sign that the person is into them!  How can Katsuki not see it?  Is he blind?”

Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow.  “He  _ does  _ wear glasses.  If you have time to gossip about your co-lead and the costume designer, go practice your own lines some more, Bogekawa.”

“Meanie~” Oikawa whines.  He perches on the edge of a prop chair and rests his chin on his hand.  His eyes wander over to Iwa-chan, more specifically, to his arms.  Iwa-chan always wears a tank top to work, regardless of the weather and the time of the year.  When asked, he told Oikawa that he preferred to wear clothes that posed minimal hindrance to his work.  The answer still did not convince Oikawa why Iwa-chan insisted on his particular work fashion but it was not as though Oikawa was complaining.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says around the time Iwa-chan is finishing up.  “Any plans for the rest of the day?”

Iwa-chan smirks.  “If there’s something you want from me, you should just say it outright.”

“Ah, ah, ah~” Oikawa wiggles his forefinger.  He adopts a shocked tone.  “We’re still at work.  I shan’t talk of such things around here.”

“Says the person who jumped me in the props storage room.   _ Four times _ .”

“We were new here back then,” Oikawa counters.  “Now I have a lot of precious memories in this theatre that I don’t wanna overwrite with amazing, hot sex with my amazing, hot boyfriend.”

“Flattery will not get you everywhere,” Iwa-chan snorts.  He loads up the trolley with the props and the portable set pieces.  “Have you not been paying attention in the two decades that we have known each other?”

Oikawa winks.  “It’ll be exactly twenty years this summer.  And to answer your question, Iwa-chan, flattery used to get me into your pants quite well.  Don’t you remember?” He belts out the last part, performing his best Adele impression.

“We were both horny little gits,” Iwaizumi argues.  He shoos Oikawa off the stage and follows him close behind, pushing the trolley full of storage containers.  “Just about anything got us in the mood.”

Oikawa whirls around, walking backwards as they exit the stage through the backstage area.  “So you do admit that me singing praises about your yummy biceps worked.”

Iwa-chan frowns.  “I don’t recall you doing that.  And turn back around, dumbass.  You’ll trip over and hurt yourself if you keep going like this.”

“I didn’t.  Thought I’d let you know how much I appreciate your shitty fashion choice at work,” Oikawa smirks, licking his lips.

Oikawa laughs as Iwa-chan nearly trips over the trolley.   Iwa-chan’s frown deepens as he pretends to run Oikawa over with the trolley.

“Ah~  Help me!” Oikawa shouts.  “Godzilla is after me and he is trying to eat me alive!”

“You are the worst,” Iwaizumi murmurs.  “I’ll be eating you alive, alright.”

Oikawa blushes.  “Is that a promise?”

Iwaizumi snorts.  “We’ll see.”

  
  


-

  
  


“I-Iwa-chan . . .” Oikawa moans.  

The moment they stepped through the threshold to their apartment, Iwa-chan pushed Oikawa up against the wall and began to ravish him in all the right ways.  Oikawa knew that Iwa-chan knew that Oikawa’s neck was a weak spot.  Having Iwa-chan kiss, bite, and lick it all the while having his scruffy jawline rub against Oikawa’s bare skin was more than enough to get Oikawa hard and desperate in his downstairs area.

“Fuck work,” Oikawa gasps.  “It’s been, what, three weeks since we last fucked?”

Iwa-chan nibbles on the skin under which OIkawa’s pulse is pounding wildly. “Three weeks and five days.”

Oikawa whimpers when Iwa-chan unbuckles Oikawa’s belt and makes a quick job of ridding OIkawa of his jeans and underwear.  He can see Iwa-chan swallow in appreciation as Oikawa’s half-hard cock bobs up.

“Hmm, yeah” Oikawa groans as Iwa-chan mouths along the tip of his dick. “When did you get so good at this?  I still remember when we were both shit at everything sex related.”

Iwa-chan glances up at Oikawa only to shoot daggers at Oikawa with his eyes.  “Keep that up and you won’t be getting any tonight.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Oikawa singsongs.  “Please.  Do continue.”

Oikawa has to hold himself back from rocking his hips as Iwa-chan wraps his lips around the tip of Oikawa’s cock and sucks it inside.  As Iwa-chan’s mouth takes in more and more of OIkawa’s cock in, Oikawa feel an unfamiliar solid object sliding up against the underside of his cock.

“Iwa-chan?” he blurts out.  “What is this?”

Iwa-chan cocks an eyebrow.  He pulls off and grins.  He sticks his tongue out and waggles it around for Oikawa to see.  A small silver ball on the centre of Iwa-chan’s tongue glints as it catches the dim, mostly burnt-out light of the entryway.

“It’s a tongue piercing, duh,” Iwa-chan deadpans.  

“When the hell did you get it?!” Oikawa shouts.  “And more importantly, why didn’t you tell me the moment you got it?”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes.  “I’m not supposed to engage in sexual activities for the first few days after getting a tongue piercing.  Same applies for the other piercing that I got.”

Oikawa’s eyes widen.  “You got another body mod?  Fucking hell, Iwa-chan~ Are you trying to kill me or love me?”

Iwa-chan sighs.  “Are you going to dwell on the fact that I got body mods for the next ten minutes or are you going to let me continue?”

Oikawa pouts.  “Like you had to ask.  Screw the blow job.  I wanna see the other piercing that you got.”

“If that’s what you want. . .” Iwa-chan trails off, sticking his tongue out as he trails a fingertip up and down the side of OIkawa’s shaft.

“Bed.  Now,” OIkawa enunciates.

“The couch will do,” Iwa-chan objects.  “I’ll make sure that we don’t stain it again.”

“And how do you plan on doing that?” Oikawa counters.

“You can ride me,” Iwa-chan answers in a tone that implies that there is no room for objection.

Oikawa’s cheeks turn red.  He does enjoy the position.  Scratch that, he loves to ride Iwa-chan all the while squeezing Iwa-chan’s thick, muscular thighs between his legs.  “Okay, fine.”

Iwaizumi stands up and pecks Oikawa on the lips.  He grabs Oikawa’s hand and leads him to the couch in the living room.  He lets Oikawa push him down and unclothe him down to his underwear.  Oikawa reaches for the stash of condoms and lube down the back of the sofa.  He kneels on the sofa with his legs astride, his knees bracketing Iwa-chan’s mouth-watering, muscular thighs.  He tears open a packet of lube and slicks up his fingers.  He mentally praises himself for taking that extra break right before rehearsals ended today.  He is about to tuck two of his fingers inside his hole when something catches his eye.

“You got your dick pierced too?!’ he blurts out.

Iwa-chan shrugs, stroking his own cock.  He is careful in his movements as not to touch the tip..  “I thought it’d be fun.  Spice up our sex life and whatnot.  It was such a pain in the first week, though.”

“I’ll say,” Oikawa utters, sizing up the piece of steel that is embedded in Iwa-chan’s glans.  “Is it safe for us to have sex now?”

“Yeah.  We just have to make sure that we use condoms at all times for the next nine weeks, minimum.  The pamphlet said something about being gentle with the piercing, so no rough play for the next two months, Kuzoikawa.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault that sex with you is so good that it practically melts my brain,” Oikawa defends himself.  He tentatively touches the piercing.  It is rather satisfying to see Iwa-chan moan at the touch.  

“Get on my lap,” Iwa-chan orders.  He slaps Oikawa’s hand away.

“Why should I?”

Iwa-chan scowls.  He grips Oikawa’s hips and seats him in his lap, drawing out a surprised yelp from Oikawa.  Iwa-chan tears open a condom packet and starts to roll it down his cock.  Oikawa shakes his head and plucks the condom from between Iwa-chan’s fingertips.  He leans into kiss Iwa-chan deeply, marvelling at the new sensation of the small metallic ball clanking around in their mouths.  He waits for Iwa-chan’s breathy moans before he puts the condom on Iwa-chan.

“Kusoikawa,” Iwaizumi mutters.  His mouth veers off of Oikawa’s, heading towards the side of his throat.  He nibbles on one spot, and the sensation of his scruff rubbing against Oikawa’s throat is bliss and torture all at once.  Iwaizumi holds their erections together loosely in his hand as he rocks his hips up.

“I-Iwa-chan . . . .” Oikawa moans.  The sensation of the piercing rubbing up against his is better than what he could have imagined.  He is going to nut in a minute as if he were a horny, teenaged git if Iwa-chan keeps up the pace.

“So close already?” Iwa-chan asks in a breathy, husky voice.  “It’s okay.  I’ll just make you come again.”

“M-mean…. Meanie,” Oikawa moans.  He digs his fingers into Iwa-chan’s shoulders for support.  

Iwa-chan loops his free arm around Oikawa’s nape and pulls him in.  He kisses the spot behind Oikawa’s ear before he whispers into Oikawa’s ear, “Come for me, Tooru.”

Oikawa bites down on the juncture between Iwa-chan’s shoulder and neck as he comes, his entire body quaking with the force of it.  He winces as Iwa-chan circles his fingertips around the rim of Oikawa’s hole.

“Still up for it?” Iwa-chan asks.  He scatters kisses around Oikawa’s face and neck.

Oikawa nods.  He shifts his weight and lifts his ass for easier access.  “Have I ever said no to a round two?”

Iwa-chan smirks.  “Round two?  That was only the beginning, Tooru.”

Oikawa groans.  “Stop it.  You’re playing dirty again, Iwa-chan.”

“Never claimed otherwise,” Iwa-chan retorts.  “Now shut up and let me sex you up proper.”

Oikawa laughs.  “Anytime, Hajime-chan~”

And if Oikawa is too sore to give his all at the rehearsals tomorrow, well, he won’t complain.  

(He will whine about it to Iwa-chan before and after work, though.)

  
  


-

  
  


Yuuri smiles at Viktor across the table.  They are at their usual spot at their favourite diner.  Contrary to Yuuri’s previous concerns, no one seemed to recognise Viktor as they walked to the diner or in the small, cozy diner itself.

“Do I have something in my face or?” Viktor asks, smiling back at Yuuri.

Yuuri shakes his head.  “I was just remembering something from earlier today.”

Viktor leans across the table slightly.  His eyes sparkle like a puppy who is about to go on a walk. “Ooh, tell me, tell me!”

“I bet that everyone in the theatre thinks that I’m too oblivious for not noticing you constantly flirting with me,” Yuuri answers.  “Oikawa-san seemed just about ready to intervene by the end of today’s rehearsal.”

Viktor giggles.  “I agree that it’s hilarious that they don’t know about the things we do, especially at night.”

Yuuri shushes Viktor, clamping his hand over Viktor’s mouth.  “This is exactly why I didn’t want you to work at my theatre, Vitya.  Subtlety is not something that comes to you naturally!”

Yuuri isn’t fazed when Viktor snakes his tongue out to lap at the spaces between Yuuri’s fingers.  “Then why didn’t you protest more strongly?”

“Because I’m not a jerk who doesn’t respect your wishes,” Yuuri replies in a heartbeat.  “Even though staying at your former theatre was a better move for your career.”

“I’ll make it work somehow,” Viktor says with a dismissive wave of his hand.  

“I know you will,” Yuuri affirms, withdrawing his hand.  “I wouldn’t be surprised if your debut show at our theatre sold out.  Your fans are well-known for their loyalty.”

Viktor twirls a teaspoon around in his coffee mug.  “Wanna bet on it?”

“Let’s hear it first.”

“If the show sells out, you get to reward me in any way that you see fit.  If the show doesn’t sell out, I get to PDA all I want at the theatre.”

Yuuri ponders it.  He nods.  “Okay, I don’t see why you think it won’t sell out but sure.”

Viktor grins.  “It’s a win-win situation for me, Yuura.  I think you see exactly why I set the terms this way.”

Yuuri laughs, his eyes doing that cute squinty thing with laughter.  Viktor wants to kiss Yuuri so badly but he knows that Yuuri is super conservative when it comes to public displays of affection.  No matter.  He can hold back until they are back at their place.  Probably.

“You are incorrigible,” says Yuuri.

“And you look scrumptious in my jacket,” Viktor counters.

Yuuri’s cheeks turn pink.  “I was running late and couldn’t find my own,” he murmurs.

“I know.  I’m the reason you were running late after all,” Viktor snickers.

“One of these days, I  _ will  _ make you pay for all those times that you made me late for work,” Yuuri threatens.

“Looking forward to it, love,” Viktor replies, blowing him a kiss.

Yuuri shakes his head again, mostly to himself.  Viktor grins, leaning back into his chair.  

“What do you want to do after dinner, Yuura?” Viktor asks.  He waves at their server as she walks by.

“Sleep for the next hundred years,” is Yuuri’s immediate reply.  “I need to finalise the outfit designs for the final scenes.  You don’t have to wait up for me, Vitya.  I actually want to sleep as soon as I’m done with the designs.”

“If that’s what you want~” Viktor singsongs.  He asks the server for their cheque when she comes up to their table.

“It is,” Yuuri confirms.  He waits for the server to walk away before he adds, “And no.  I won’t change my mind even if you walk around the house naked except for a pair of heels.”

Viktor imitates a cat’s purr.  “Is that a challenge?”

“Nope.  It’s a reminder and a request.  You should get your beauty sleep, too.  Not that you need it.”

“You say the sweetest things,” Viktor says in an exaggerated love-stricken voice, batting his eyelashes for the extra effect.  He thanks the server when she brings over the cheque.  He leaves a generous tip before he stands up.  “Shall we, then?”

Yuuri stands up as well.  “We shall.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is the very first time that I wrote explicit Iwaoi smut haha. This became more centred on Iwaoi even though my original intention was to have similar Iwaoi to Viktuuri ratio. I live for fluffy domestic Viktuuri and it’s a shame I haven’t written lots of domestic Viktuuri yet. ~~(fuck you school work)~~ Happy birthday to Ingrid again and I hope this tickled your fancy  <3
> 
>  
> 
> _Constructive criticisms are always welcome_


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